The Funhouse

lights.
        Farther south, at the edge of the town and above it, lay the county fairgrounds. The fairgrounds were dark now, deserted, but in July, when the carnival arrived, Amy would be able to stand at her window and see the blaze of colored lights, the far-off, magical blur of the steadily turning Ferris wheel.
        The night was filled only with the familiar. There was nothing new in it, nothing dangerous.
        The feeling that she was standing in the path of a fiercely destructive, oncoming storm faded, and exhaustion replaced it. She returned to bed.
        Only one threat loomed over the Harper household, and that was her pregnancy, the inescapable consequences of her sin.
        Amy put her hands on her belly, and she thought about what her mother would say, and she wondered if she would always be as alone and helpless as she was now, and she wondered what was coming.

----

    4
        
        At the refreshment stand near the carousel, there were five people in line ahead of Chrissy Lampton and Bob Drew.
        “I hate to waste time waiting like this,” Chrissy said, abut I really want that candy apple.”
        “It won't take long,” Bob said.
        “There's so much more I want to do.”
        “Relax. It's only eleven-thirty. The carnival won't shut down until at least one o'clock.”
        “But it's the last night,” Chrissy said. She took a deep breath, savoring the blend of aromas that permeated the night: popcorn, cotton candy, garlic-flavored french fries, hot roasted peanuts, and more. “Ahhhh! My mouth is watering. I've been stuffing myself all night, and I'm still famished. I can't believe I've eaten so much!”
        “It's partly the excitement,” Bob said. “Excitement burns up calories. And all those thrill rides. You were scared half to death on most of those rides, and fear burns up calories even faster than strenuous exercise.” He was seriously trying to analyze her unusual appetite. Bob was an accountant.
        “Listen,” Chrissy said, “why don't you wait in line and get the candy apples while I find the ladies' room. I'll meet you over there by the merry-go-round in a few minutes. That way we'll kill two birds at the same time.”
        “With one stone,” Bob said.
        “Huh?”
        “The expression is, We'll kill two birds with one stone.”
        “Oh. Sure.”
        “But I don't think it applies here exactly,” Bob said. “Not quite. Anyway, you go ahead to the ladies'. We'll meet at the carousel like you said.”
         Sheesh ! Chrissy thought. Are all accountants like this?
        She walked away from the refreshment stand, through the damp wood shavings that covered the ground, through the calliope-blast from the merry-go-round, past a high-striker where a muscular young man slammed a sledgehammer into a scale and rang a bell overhead to impress his date, past a dozen pitchmen who were spieling a mile a minute, trying to get people to play all sorts of games where you could win a teddy bear or a kewpie doll or some other piece of junk. A hundred attractions played a hundred different songs, but somehow the various strains of music didn't sound the least bit discordant when they came together, everything fused into a single, strange, but appealing melody. The carnival was a river of noise, and Chrissy waded through it, grinning happily.
        Chrissy Lampton loved the Coal County Spring Fair. It was always one of the high spots of the year. The fair, Christmas, New Year's Eve, Thanksgiving, the Halloween dance at the Elks' Club, the Las Vegas Nights at St. Thomas's Church (one in April, one in August)-those were the only days of excitement in the entire year, the only events worth looking forward to in all of Coal County.
        She remembered part of a funny and rather dirty little song that had made the rounds when she'd been in high school:
        
         Everyone who lives here has the zits;
         Good old Coal County sure is the pits.
         Anybody with a brain has got to split
         Cause this is where God squats when he gets the shits.
        
        In high school she used to laugh at that song. But now, at the still-tender age of twenty-one, grimly aware of how limited her future was in this place, she didn't find those lyrics very humorous.
        Someday she would move to New York or Los Angeles, to a place with opportunities. She intended to split as soon as she had six months'